Very Bad Poetry

A drunk an very desperate Jean-Paul Sartre,
Meets Gloria Steinem up to her ass in incredible Texas stash.
Low and behold I am the result of just such a union.
You might wonder at such a creation between two fag's.
I'm still wondering which one was suppose to be mama.

But god bless my mama which ever one it was.
Not eveyone gets a masculine dad.
And I think my dad had tits.
It their fault I'm this way.
I can't figure out if I'm suppose to jack in or jack off.

Help me, Honey De rescue me.
This is partly your falt anyway.
You could have sent a letter bomb.
A long time ago.
You have to unscrew me.
Come on Honey De get up off the floor quit rolling around an scratching.
You got to fix me.
Who else would have known my mama an daddy but you.
Did you ever figure which was which?

I could lie an say that this isn't me.
But you remember what mom and daddy said about lieing.
You think anybody remembers?
Because I don't have a clue.
But you know my mom an dad they didn't like anyone.
In particular me.
I'm trying to think which one said they didn't like you.
I think it was dad because I remember the clevage you know.

Step in any time Honey De and help me out.
I'm making this up as I go.
Finish this one for me Honey De.
Make mom an dad proud like they were of me.
rlh

note:
Thanks and cudos for the help, United Fruit Co.

Robert Hawkins has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Robert's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Robert's latest works: